


The Final Wall

by orphan_account



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-14
Updated: 2011-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-23 17:55:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a brutal attack, Nick is questioning his new relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Wall

**Author's Note:**

> by Duval

How did my relationship with Nick start? Well, it started a long time before we were ever lovers, I can tell you that. We shared a very real and deep bond, and still do, one that was forged by our time in Vietnam and working as detectives -- not to mention a mutual respect and affection for each other. It's rather strange, but before we could really share each other physically, two tragedies had to nearly destroy those bonds. I guess we just needed something profound to drive us over that final wall and force us to make that life-time commitment. Here, have a cup of coffee, it's a long story.

You've already heard part of the story the last time we met. You remember, I told you about Nick telling me about his past after the disaster with Janet in San Francisco? Well, that's when we made love for the first time, but it wasn't too long after that when the real Rubicon for us happened. . . .

* * * * * * *

"Mr. Allen?"

I rose from the faded plaid couch, knowing the doctor was bringing me mixed news. "Yes?"

"Mr. Ryder's stable now. We have him in ICU, and we'll be keeping him there for at least a day, maybe two."

"Is he going to be all right?"

"It's really too soon to tell, but barring some unforeseen complications, I think he'll be back on his feet in a few weeks. He'll need some recovery time after that, but he should be back to normal in three or four months, providing it all goes as I'd like."

"Thank God."

"There is one thing . . . How much did the police tell you?"

"The police? Nothing, why?"

"As you know, his kidnappers were rather, uh, abusive."

"Yeah." I shuddered. The memory of Nick's bruised and battered body was still all too clear in my mind. "I was there when they found him. We helped bust several members of that group on a murder and drug rap about a year ago. A couple of them were killed. This was their revenge."

"Well, as you could no doubt tell, that abuse took several forms."

"Doctor, what're you trying to say?" I asked.

"I'm afraid Mr. Ryder was raped."

If Murray hadn't stepped out of the elevator right then, I think I might have sat down and cried. As it was, I didn't want the little guy to hear that -- he seems so innocent at times that I feel like I have to protect him from the ugliness men force on one another. This was one of those times.

"Can we talk about this more later?" I asked the doctor. He glanced at Murray, understanding, and nodded.

* * * * * * *

Nick and I never talked about the rape while he was in the hospital. I wasn't even sure if he knew that I'd been told. I thought it would be better if he brought it up on his own. It bothered me, though. I'd known the man for over ten years by then and during most of it we had been together in some form or another -- mission teammates, sharing a room at the B.O.Q., sharing the boat before Murray came on board, starting the detective business, and finally becoming lovers -- we'd seen each other through more hell and high water than I care to remember.

And I want you to know that before we ever went to bed together I knew that I loved Nick. I loved him like a brother, a best friend, someone I'd willingly give my life for if it would save his. And, I'll admit, there were times I caught myself admiring his body. Hell, beauty's beauty regardless of where you find it. I never stopped and thought much about it. It was Nick. I loved Nick, still do, in case you're wondering. He knew it, I knew it, and we both knew he felt the same way.

Then, when we took that next step in the relationship and added physical love, nothing really changed. I mean, things changed, of course, but the love I felt for him was the same, only deeper somehow, more complete. I know I'm not saying this very well, but I think you know what I mean. We loved each other, but at the time of the attack, I'm not really sure if we were "in love" with each other like we are now. It's complicated.

But the love I felt for Nick made the weeks after he came home a pure hell. He was quiet, withdrawn, both things Murray and I expected. He jumped at strange noises, so we were a little more careful. Most of that kind of stuff passed in a week or so. Most, not all. And he was completely distant physically, and that's not Nick, not at all.

Whenever I brushed up against him -- and let me tell you, on a boat as small as the _Riptide_ it's bound to happen a few times a day -- the man I'd known for ten years, the man I'd been sleeping with for about a month, would flinch away. It felt like I was being stabbed every time I saw him cringe, fear flooding his eyes. Oh, he'd get his composure back quick enough and blow it off, but we both knew the situation was quickly growing intolerable. I mean, it was even the same with Murray, but his reactions weren't so strong. (I guess the Boz just can't impose much of a threat for a guy Nick's size, no matter what he'd been through.)

So, a little over a month after he was kidnapped, the whole thing finally came to a head -- no pun intended.

It was late. Nick had gone to bed before Murray and I, claiming he had a head-ache, but we all knew he just needed some time alone. When I went down to the cabin later I knew something was wrong. Nick was curled up on his bunk like a baby, his chin on his knees, his arms wrapped around his legs. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was crying. I think what unnerved me the most about that moment was the fact that it was obvious that it was taking all his concentration and effort to keep the huge sobs shaking his body silent. He didn't want me to know he was hurting.

But _I_ wanted to know. I mean, I was his _lover_ , it was my right to know when he was hurting like that. The thought that he didn't trust me anymore damned near doubled me over like a hard punch right to the gut.

I didn't turn on the reading light over my bed like I normally would. Instead I tried to pretend like I hadn't noticed, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't.

I forced myself to pull off my shoes, shirt, and jeans. Then I sat down on the edge of my bunk. "Nick?" I whispered loud enough so I knew he heard me.

He didn't answer.

I pushed myself up and stepped over to the side of his bunk, but to tell you the truth, I was afraid to sit down.

"Hey, Nick? What's wrong, buddy?" (Okay, so it was stupid and trite, but I was scared to death at the time and I really didn't know what else to say.)

Nick took a deep breath and swallowed before he rasped out, "Nothin'."

"Bull," I said, easing down to sit on the edge of the bunk -- but I was very careful not to touch the trembling, tanned body. "Talk to me, Nick," I coaxed him.

He couldn't. He just shook his head and cried, the sounds finally escaping.

At that point I didn't think, I just reacted, reaching out to grasp his naked shoulder. And all hell broke loose. I'd set six-feet of trained private detective into motion. I felt his body uncoil, twist and thrust in my direction. His shoulder caught my bare midsection, carrying us both across the room and slamming me into the opposite wall. I collapsed onto my bunk, gasping for breath and very damned confused.

Nick stepped back, utter fear shining in those ocean-blue eyes of his. He opened his mouth a couple of time but no words came out. I took a few deep breaths, trying to fill my lungs and finally gasped out, "I'm sorry, man."

"No, Cody. No." He raised his hands, palms put like he was trying to show me that he wouldn't hurt me again. "Oh, God," he moaned, "what's wrong with me?"

I eased off my bunk when he sat back down on his. "Nick," I said, "we gotta talk this out."

He looked up and his expression nearly doubled me over again. I wanted to take him in my arms and kiss away all the pain and fear I saw, but I knew I couldn't, not after what had just happened. But let me tell you, I don't think I've ever wanted to kiss Nick as much as I did right then. That's when I fell in love with my lover -- hopelessly and completely. That knowledge sent a shiver through me that I remember even now. And you know, the feeling's never faded, not even a little bit.

Nick cradled his head in his hands. "Ah, man, it's not you, Cody. I'm so damn scared. Every time I close my eyes I see it all again and again and again."

"It'll pass, just like the 'Nam nightmares finally passed," I told him, hoping that it was true.

"I want to believe that. I really do."

I took a deep breath and worked up enough courage to sit down next to him again, but I was careful _not_ to touch him.

"It's not that it happened, you know? I mean, I could deal with that . . . It's what happened. I. . ." He trailed off.

"What?" I prompted.

"I-- They-- God, Cody, they _raped_ me." The words were like a confession, full of pain and guilt. It didn't occur to me that Nick might attack me again, I just reached out and let my arm slip around the cold, shaking shoulders. I felt the muscles go slack, like the words had finally drained all the strength out of him.

"Shh," I whispered, pulling him to me and rocking him back and forth. He kind of curled up against me, nestling against my chest. It took all the control I had not to kiss the soft, dark hair brushing against my chin and I felt my nipples harden as one of his tears ran down my chest.

"You know I won't hurt you," I said softly.

"I know," he whispered.

"We'll get through this, Nick, I promise. It might not be easy, but Murray and I will be here for you."

"Damn it, Cody, I've been trying to sort through this for a month. Oh, Jesus, you're gonna hate me."

"Wrong, buddy. I couldn't hate you; I love you."

"It's not just the rape, Cody. God knows I hated it and I would have killed them if I could, but--"

I reached up and smoothed the dark hair, letting my hand run down the back of Nick's neck. I felt the goosebumps rise on his arms and shoulders, stimulating reciprocal ones on my own bare skin. "Tell me."

"You remember the day we spent out at Shark Island with the kids in the mentally handicapped fellowship?"

"Yeah," I said, wondering where this was going. I let my hand run lightly across the corded shoulders and Nick seemed to relax a little, so I dropped lower, rubbing his back in broad circles.

"Remember how we were all goofin' off on the beach and after a while they had us so exhausted that we sort of collapsed on each other right there in the sand and just watched the kids while we got our breaths back?"

"Yeah."

"Well . . . Man, I can't believe I'm saying this."

"It's okay, really." I let my other hand reach up and cradle his head, my fingers smoothing down the half-curled ends of his hair.

"That felt good, really good, you know?"

"Uh-huh. Nick, are you trying to say that you enjoying, uh, being with me?" Did he give me a straight answer? Of course not!

"That night I had a dream where you and I-- That we-- We were--"

"What? Making love?"

"Yes," he whispered, so softly I almost didn't hear him. I felt my gut burn at the words. "It's what I wanted."

"Nick, what's wrong with that? We're lovers. Lovers make love to each other. It's sort of a natural condition for that relationship."

"But. . ."

I could tell there was something really eating at him, something about our new relationship. "Are you saying that you think we made a mistake, becoming lovers?" I asked, but I was silently praying that wasn't it. I wasn't at all sure I could handle it if he said yes.

"No-- I don't think so. Damn it, Cody, I've wanted you for half my life! Ever since you picked me up that day when I was a kid, you know that. But when they had me, when they tied me up and I knew what was going to happen, I knew it was because of what I am."

I reached up and hugged him tightly. I felt Nick's arms slips around my chest. The dark hair tickled my nipples, and I felt them go hard again. "You mean you think the rape was a punishment for being my lover?"

Nick nodded against my chest. "I'm sorry. I never should've told you. I-- It's wrong. It's--"

" _No_ ," I said, maybe too strong since I felt Nick jump, the muscles relaxed just a moment before tensing again. He started to pull back, but I grabbed his shoulders. I had to make him understand that what had happened to him wasn't a punishment. He was a victim. "Nick, listen to me; it's _not_ wrong to want to be with someone you love."

"Yeah, but--"

"Hey, be honest, okay? Do you love me?"

He paused, confusion wrinkling his handsome face. Then he looked at me (his expression so much like a little boy's), and nodded. I guess I should have expected something like this. Nick wasn't exactly what you'd call "comfortable" with his sexuality.

"Is it wrong to want to be with someone you love? To help them? Take care of them? Share?"

"No," he whispered, his gaze dropping.

"Don't you think that I looked at you before we became lovers and wondered what it would be like to allow our relationship past the one wall we had left?"

"You did?"

"Yes. Hell yes!" I didn't tell him it had started happening when he went to his fifteenth reunion. The thought of losing the man I'd placed all my trust in, the man who was always there with help and a kick in the pants if I needed it, to an old high school buddy? I'll admit it, there was a part of me that was, well, relieved when Deke ended up dead. The possibility of losing Nick made me a little cold-hearted, I guess. And it made me wonder what it might be like to kiss those full lips of his, or to let my tongue run over those long, black eyelashes . . . I swallowed. Now was not the time to get lost in those kinds of ideas.

"Nick, what they did to you was wrong, pure and simple. You didn't ask for it, and I swear it didn't happen to punish you. They did it to hurt you, to humiliate you. Hell, I'll bet they had no idea that we're lovers."

Nick's gaze locked on mine. I knew if he saw the slightest trace of obfuscation in my eyes our relationship would end, but I knew he wouldn't find any, because there was none to find. I really believed that. I really believed that there was nothing wrong with our relationship, with or without sex. We loved each other and that was the only thing that mattered. It was a magical moment as he realized it as well.

"Thank you," he whispered. Tears filled his eyes and spilled over, running down his cheeks. I pulled him back to me and held him as the pain and anger he'd been holding back washed out with the tears. As he cried, I rocked him, whispering my feelings about our relationship and my love. As I talked, my hands traced up and down his back, my lips brushing the hair over his ear. He held me tight.

I don't know how long we sat like that, but after a while I felt his hands move. Hesitant at first, they carefully roamed over my back. I shivered and let my fingers comb through his thick hair. He pulled back a little so he could look at me.

"Touch me, Cody. I don't want to be afraid of you anymore."

The words, so soft, so pleading, were just what I'd wanted to hear. I let my fingertips trace the lines of his face as softly as I could. His body trembled and his dark nipples hardened. Leaning forward I kissed his forehead, then across his closed eyelids, cheeks, neck, collarbone. He moaned softly.

"Lay back," I whispered.

He opened his eyes, the fear springing back.

"Easy," I soothed, "I won't hurt you, I promise. If you want me to stop just say so and I will."

He lay down. "I do love you, you know?"

"I know. Now, let me show you that our love doesn't have to hurt."

He closed his eyes then and that act, that simple little move, brought tears to my eyes. The trust it signaled made my heart feel like exploding. No one had anyone ever given themselves over to me so completely. I reached out and let my hand touch his broad, well-muscled chest, my fingers tangling in the soft hair, rubbing across the hard nipples. Nick rolled his head and dug his fingers into the damp sheets.

I leaned forward and ran my tongue around one nub, teasing him, then took the hard seed between my teeth and pulled. Nick sucked in a breath, hissing through his teeth. "Oh, God," he groaned.

I let my tongue trace a damp line down to his navel and blew, feeling his hips buck up slightly in response. While I planted kisses just above the band of his white BVDs, my hand rubbed over his legs and they opened slightly so I could kneed his inner thighs. He moaned again, one hand coming free of the sheets to rub up and down my back.

I could feel myself straining to be free of my briefs, just like he was, his cock jumping in time with the kisses I planted on his bare abdomen. I reached up and gently cupped the throbbing pole and felt Nick's fingers dig into my shoulder. It was like an electrical current was running through him, drawing him as tight as a wire.

"Easy, Nick, easy," I whispered, carefully pulling the waistband over his cock and down his legs. I knew he was still afraid.

"Cody?" he whispered in what sounded like a little boy's voice.

"I'm right here. It's okay."

I moved my bunk over next to his like we'd had them before his attack and lay down beside him. One hand still running carefully over his body, I stroked his hair with the other. He turned toward me and our legs tangled. "Hold me . . . please."

I drew him close, kissing his forehead, eyelids, while he fought back the fear. I ran the tip of my tongue along the rim of his ear and he bucked forward, our groins colliding. He jerked back, eyes opening, amazement showing on his face.

"What?" I asked.

"You," he said, his voice catching with emotion. "You're hard."

"No kidding, Sherlock." It took me a minute to realize that he thought I was just doing this for him, and I was, but I was also doing it for me, for us -- the relationship we'd started building. "Trust me," I said, pushing him back down. He didn't resist, but he didn't let go either. I ended up half-lying across my handsome partner's chest, the rest of me plastered along his side. We were nose to nose. I couldn't resist.

I kissed his lips, softly, then with more force as he reciprocated. Our lips parted, and together we explored each other like it was the first time all over again. The tips of our tongues moved like dancers or fencers. When I pulled away and began kissing down along his throat I had to smile at the slurred, "Ohmygawd" that escaped out of him.

Reaching out, I touched his hips, massaging across the bones like I knew he liked, my fingers finally straying down to tangle in the dark hair of Nick's groin. Then, as gently as I could, I wrapped my hand around the hard length of his cock. His answering groan was like music in my ears. I kissed faster, moving down across his chest until at last I brushed the dark wine-colored tip of his cock with my lips, removing the first drop of precome that sat there. Nick gasped for breath. "Oh, Cody. Oh, man . . . please."

I ran my tongue over the tip, then around the crown and down the pulsing underside of his shaft to nibble at the pubic hair that half-concealed his balls. His hips thrust upward and I slipped my hand under his firm ass, squeezing when his hips dropped, sending them up again. This time I caught the length of him in my mouth and felt his fingers tighten on my back again -- only this time it was in pleasure, not fear.

I sucked in a breath through my nose when I felt his hand run over my brief-covered ass, his fingertips hooking into the elastic band and tugging them down. My erection leaped free and I felt my partner cup my balls, carefully, gently, then he squeezed. I moved around to give him more room to work and his hand slipped past my balls to caress me. I bobbed my head in time with his strokes.

"Cody," he hissed through clenched teeth as I felt his orgasm begin. I didn't stop, and he exploded. I swallowed the warm, salty liquid, then kissed the tip once more.

"Oh, man," Nick breathed. "That felt so good."

I smiled, my own erection demanding attention, but I couldn't ask, not after what he'd been through. But I didn't have to. Those intense blue eyes were already roaming over my naked body, drawing goosebumps from me.

"Cody, can I touch you?"

I nodded, unsure as to what I should say, but too excited to worry about it. I let him lay me back on the bunk, my cock already primed. I closed my eyes as lips and fingertips descended on me at once. It was overwhelming.

Kisses rained across my face, brushing my lips. He nibbled at my moustache, making me squirm. His tongue probed along my ear, down my neck, licking the sweat out of the hollow of my throat. I moaned. His hands were so careful, so gentle -- it came naturally, Nick moved like a whisper. He teased my nipples, rubbed along my chest, ribs, over my hips, and down the tops of my legs and back up the inside.

"Please, Nick," I groaned. I'd been ready to come earlier, and he was driving me crazy. He touched me and I bucked up off the bed. I wanted it -- _now_. Nick must've sensed my need because I felt the warmth of his mouth enclosing me, his teeth gently teasing, his tongue pressing, urging the explosion that was building. I groaned, tossed my head, and let myself fall into the pleasure of my own climax. Wave after wave of sensation washed over me while Nick continued to work, draining me. When it was over we moved slowly, carefully folding into each other's arms and sleep.

"Thank you," I heard Nick whisper and I hugged him closer, pressing my face against the back of his neck.

"I'm here," I whispered back.

He pressed back against me, then relaxed, sleep no longer the enemy. I stroked his shoulder until I knew he was asleep, then draped my arm over my best friend and lover and went to sleep.

* * * * * * *

I yawned and stretched, my breath catching when my legs brushed along Nick's naked hip. What a night. Nick moaned slightly, his brow furrowing. "Just me," I whispered.

Blue eyes opened sluggishly and stared at me. "You're blushing."

I grinned. He was right, but then, "So are you, big guy." I rolled onto my back and started laughing.

"What?" my dark-haired lover asked grumpily.

"Oh, I was just thinking how that takes on a whole new meaning -- 'big guy,' that is."

Nick thought for a moment, fought a grin back and glared playfully at me. "You're a real pain. You know that?"

"Hmmm."

"Get on outta here, will ya? I need some coffee."

I climbed out over him and headed for the tiny bathroom we shared.

"Hey, Cody."

"Yeah."

"Thanks, man. I mean it."

I stuck my head out the door and smiled. "My pleasure . . . big guy." His answer was a pillow, bouncing off my chin.

* * * * * * *

Our lives quickly settled back into a regular pattern, and although Nick and I didn't make love, we were closer than ever. Murray sensed Nick's return to normal, though I doubt he had any inclination why. After a long talk we decided not to tell Murray about the rape, but now I don't remember exactly why.

There have been few times in my life when I've felt totally happy and satisfied with myself, but that was one of them. The agency was doing fine, and we were all healthy, happy and content. Murray was just finishing up another video game and Nick and I had discovered that we were really in love with each other. It was like we were dating, or courting, I guess. We also knew ourselves better and that carried over. Those were good feelings. Now they're even better.

But paradise can't last forever, and our serpent was a California Supreme Court decision that released Calvin Granger, the man responsible for Nick's kidnapping and rape. The state high court decided that some of the procedures followed by the police were not in proper accordance with the Miranda decision, so they overturned the conviction and put Granger back out on the streets.

Like I said, Calvin's younger brother and a cousin had been involved in murder and drugs. We crossed paths with them while we were looking for a missing sixteen-year-old girl they'd picked up and later raped and murdered. We called in the police for help when we located them in a hotel up the coast, but in the exchange Craig was killed. The cousin, Larry, I think it was, died a few days later. Calvin found out from the police reports that it was a bullet from Nick's gun that killed his brother.

Why we weren't notified of Grangers' release I still don't understand. A glitch in the red tape somewhere, I guess.

We were all in bed. The warning buzzer from the Roboz was the first thing that told me something was wrong. The second was the butt of a Smith and Wesson bouncing off the back of my head. I collapsed back onto my bunk, dazed. I could hear sounds from Murray's cabin, but at least there were no gunshots.

Lying on my bunk, I watched as a very large man entered our cabin, hurling Murray across the room ahead of him. The little guy crashed into the far wall and slid down, unconscious.

Nick was growling, literally growling, as he launched himself off the bed to attack the man, but Calvin brushed my partner aside with one slap of his hand. He twirled a gun in his other hand, pointing it at me. "Hold it right there, Ryder."

Nick stopped, his body shaking with rage. I calculated my chances for reaching the gun tucked in the first drawer of the dresser next to my bed and came up with slim to none.

"I came back for you, Nicky," the man purred maliciously. "Remember how good it was?"

I knew instantly that that was the man who'd raped my partner.

Nick glared defiantly, but I could see the fear beneath it. "You'll have to kill me this time, Calvin," he sneered.

"Oh, I don't think so. You'll do exactly what I tell you, or I'll start on your friends here. But maybe you'd like to watch me?"

"You leave them the hell alone," Nick said, his tone soft and deadly. "I swear, you touch either one of them and I will kill you."

Careful not to draw attention to myself, I inched forward, my heart pounding. Luckily Calvin was occupied with Nick, and I took advantage of it, creeping forward, inch by inch, toward the dresser. Staring at the man's back, I realized just how big Granger was, towering above my partner by at least four inches and outweighing him by a good fifty pounds.

Granger reached forward and cupped Nick's face in one huge hand and I saw Nick tremble. That hand moved to Nick's shoulder, then across his chest, eventually stopping when his fingertips reached the band of the briefs Nick was wearing.

"Take 'em off," Granger commanded, snapping the elastic against Nick's bear abdomen as he did.

"Go to hell," Nick snarled.

Granger drew his arm back and slapped Nick, the force of the blow slamming him into the cabin wall. Nick sank down onto the bed, blood running down his chin from the torn corner of his mouth. I snaked forward several more inches. Murray was still out. Granger raised the gun and swung to point it at me. I closed my eyes, hoping he wouldn't realize that I was conscious. "Take 'em off, _now_."

I heard Nick comply, my stomach constricting into a knot so tight I had to fight to keep from heaving.

"Hmm, just like I remembered," the man purred in the same evil tone.

I heard Granger unzip his pants and sensed, rather than saw, Nick pressing back into the corner of the cabin. I chanced opening my eyes a crack and saw Nick huddled in the corner, Granger towering over him at the edge of the bunk. I moved forward again, reaching the head of the bed, but I was afraid to reach for the drawer. The cabin was too small, Granger would have to be blind to miss the movement.

Nick was scared, but I could see the hate blazing in those blue eyes. A few times in the course of our relationship I've been afraid of Nick, and let me tell you, that was one of them.

Granger was pressed against the bunk, one hand on Nick's bare thigh, the gun in the other. Nick scrambled back, crouching in the corner, then launched himself at the man, completely disregarding the gun. I took the opportunity of the distraction to grab for the Beretta M9 sitting in the drawer.

I was slow, the crack on the head affecting me more than I expected. Granger clubbed Nick with the butt of his gun and Nick collapsed belly-down across the bunk. I grabbed my Beretta and tried to get it up and around to fire, but Granger saw me. Two steps and he was there, slapping me. The gun dropped to the floor.

A scream echoed through the small cabin, freezing Granger and me. Nick came up off the bed, lunged and scooped the M9 up off the floor. He swung it up and squeezed repeatedly, emptying rounds into the man. Granger twitched with each shot, but he didn't fall until Nick was pulling the trigger on an empty clip.

"Nick?" I said softly. "Hey, Buddy, it's over."

Nick stopped firing and looked at me, some of the fear and anger fading away.

"Call the cops, huh? An ambulance, too," I said as I moved to check on Murray. A large knot and some dried blood in his hair told me his injuries might be worse than we thought. He never regained consciousness during the shooting.

Nick moved off to make the call and I pulled on some clothes, then tossed a blanket over Granger and wrapped another one around Murray's shoulder.

When Nick came back from making the call, he dressed silently, then distant cry of sirens drawing steadily closer.

They kept Murray in the hospital for two days of observation. He was fine, though, except for a headache that lasted for a few days. I was okay, too, just a couple of bruises and a stiff shoulder that hung on a while. It was Nick I worried about. The nightmares started up all over again.

At first a double-dose of sleeping pills would let him get a few hours of rest, but the side-effects were nearly as dangerous as the lack of sleep. I took the pills away. Nick wasn't happy, but under the grumbling I knew he understood.

Murray knew something was wrong, but he had the good sense not to ask about it. Melba called, and he decided to take a trip up to Santa Barbara for a few days while she lectured at the University. I wasn't sorry to see him go. I knew Nick needed some time to talk this through, and with Murray around I was afraid to press him on it.

I waited until it was dark -- Nick usually spoke most openly then. I guess we all do. We'd driven Murray up to Santa Barbara, then cruised home down the coast. It had been a beautiful day, warm but not hot, the sky clear and ocean that peaceful middle blue that looks so inviting. When we finally got back the boat I tossed a couple of steaks on the broiler and carried beers up to the deck.

Nick was sitting on the stairs leading up to the wheelhouse, staring out at the harbor. I handed him the beer and he took it without comment. When the steaks were finished, I brought them up too, and we ate in silence as the sun dipped into the Pacific. I've always loved the pier at night. It's quiet, only a few lights breaking up the dark, and there's the sound of the Pacific moving . . . That night something drew my attention away from the harbor and I saw the top of Nick's head disappear below.

It's hard to know when to push someone into talking and when to back away, but I had a hunch this was one of those times when I shouldn't back away. So, after carrying the dishes down to the galley, I headed for our cabin. Nick was already in bed, only a sheet pulled up to cover his chest. I undressed and climbed into bed. Lying on my back, I stared up at the ceiling and wondered what I should say. Nick saved me the effort.

"Cody, you awake?"

"Yeah."

When there was only silence I raised up, resting on my elbows. "You okay?"

Still no answer. I was getting worried. I held my breath for a minute, then realized that Nick was crying. Tossing the sheet back, I swung out of bed and went to him, gathering him into my arms and holding him.

"Damn it, Cody, when are the dreams gonna stop?"

"I don't know, buddy, I don't know," I said truthfully.

"I don't know what to do anymore. Hell, I even started thinking about shoot--"

I hugged him closer, cutting off the comment I didn't want to even consider.

"I don't know what to do."

"Talk to me," I pleaded.

Nick was quiet and I knew he was trying to decide if he could. When they came, the words were slow, disjointed. He didn't tell me everything -- no one would ever hear that -- but he talked. He talked, and cried, and yelled. I held him and listened, letting my understanding and concern show in my words and touch. It took two hours and when he was through he collapsed, emotionally exhausted.

I had him turn over and went to work, rubbing the remaining tension out of his shoulders and back. It took a while, but I finally felt the muscles relaxed under my hands. He stirred then, rolling over with a soft moan that sent a jolt of heat through my body. He reached out and laid a hand on my leg.

"You're the best," he said softly. I felt the blood creep into my cheeks and silently thanked the fates that the room was dark except for the reflected glow from the lights along the quay.

"Just a friend," I countered.

"You're a helluva lot more than that," he told me, the words filling me with pride. "I wonder how many people are lucky enough to find a-- a-- hell, I don't have a word for it."

"Soul-mate," I whispered, remembering something I'd read once. "But more, we're partners, too. You're right, I don't have a word either."

"A soul-partner," Nick whispered so softly that I wasn't sure I'd heard it at all. It had a nice ring, though.

I reached out and squeezed his shoulder, intending to go back to bed, but I found my fingers had a will of their own and I was soon caressing that strong, stubbled jawline. Blue eyes watched me with a mixture of fear and excitement and I felt myself begin to respond to the desire I saw in his gaze.

Leaning forward, our lips brushed, lightly at first, then with more force as we both decided what we wanted. I felt Nick's arms wrap around me, drawing me down alongside him, exploring my skin with gentle curiosity. Our tongues parried and one hand slipped under the material of my briefs, gripping my ass possessively. It was my turn to moan.

We moved faster, sure of ourselves and each other. I felt Nick tugging my briefs down and reached down, pulling them off, then returned the favor. There was something incredibly comfortable about the way our bodies fit together, the dark hair of his chest tickling mine while our hands explored, unashamed, unafraid. Our hips touched, pulled back, ground in again.

Nick began kissing my neck, sending spasms of fire down to my stomach. He chuckled as my cock pulsed in reply to the almost delicate movements of his lips across my chest. I gasped, arching up against him as he sucked hard at one nipple, then the other.

"Arugh," was the most intelligent comment I could make.

We wrestled, each of us wanting to please. I felt like I was on drugs -- the smell of our sweat, Nick's musk, and the cool ocean air flowing around us had made me high. I felt his hand wrap around the length of my shaft, taking my breath away. At that moment I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted anyone, and that feeling's exactly the same today.

"Nick?" I panted.

"What?" he whispered back.

"I want you."

He giggled and squeezed my cock. "No kidding."

"No, Nick, I mean I want you to make love to me. I want you inside me."

I felt him tense. He let go, the absence of his hand chilling me more than the cool night air.

"Cody, I-- I can't. They-- I can't."

"Shh, easy," I soothed. "It's okay, I trust you, Nick."

"Cody, it hurts."

"I know it will, at first," I confessed, letting my fingers trace across his hips. He groaned and pressed against me. I tangled my fingers in the thick hair at the base of his cock, weaving through to massage his balls, tight with longing.

Then I bounced off the bunk, nearly running for our bathroom. I grabbed the KY. He'd relaxed a little when I slid back into bed. I knew he was scared; so was I, for that matter, but I wanted him. I needed him. And I think he needed what I was offering, too.

I squeezed some of the lube out into my hand, then threaded the cap on and set the tube on the dressed. I frictioned my hands together a couple of time, then spread the KY over his cock. That done, I wiped off what was left on the corner of the sheet, then maneuvered so he was behind me.

I felt him press tentatively against me, so I pushed back and breathed slowly, deeply through my mouth, willing myself to relax as much as I could as I felt him begin to enter me.

Nick paused, his hands reaching out to grasp my hips. "Cody, I can't."

I pressed back against him again. "Nick, I want you." Looking over my shoulder I watched him close his eyes and lean forward. There was a brief explosion of pain and I gasped -- I couldn't stop myself.

Nick froze. "You okay?"

I swallowed, the pain shifting to an un-feeling, then into a new, strange kind of pain-pleasure. "Yeah," I said, hoping it was true.

He started to move then, carefully, gently, all the while talking softly to me, rubbing me, stroking me. It was incredible. The pain was there, but it was quickly washed out by feelings I'd never even imagined before. Nick was buried deep inside of me, his hands holding onto me as he pumped slowly, allowing me to set the pace, matching my hard grindings or soft gyrations with ones of his own.

I could feel his climax nearing, his cock swelling inside me, but he was still careful -- my gentle partner. When he came I couldn't believe the feelings that surged through me as his come filled me. I couldn't wait any longer. The feel of his climax triggered my own, and I exploded into his hands.

When he pulled out, we sank onto the sheets, both of us trembling. I could feel his concern like a voice.

"You okay?" he asked anxiously.

"Fine," I said, rolling over to look at him. I could tell Nick was blushing. I leaned over and kissed his forehead. He reached forward and scooped me into his arms, drawing me close where he held me and started to cry.

"Nick, what's wrong?"

He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, man," said, wondering if I'd somehow made it worse for him.

"No, don't be sorry. I'm, I--"

"Shh, it's okay," I whispered.

"There was so much hate and pain, Cody. I never thought this could be . . . good again, but it was. It was so damned good."

"It's love, buddy. Love makes it work."

He nodded.

 

* * * * * * *

 

The light, the gulls, and a distant motor turning over woke me up the next morning. Nick was still asleep, curled up on his side, facing away from me. I took the opportunity to appreciate the broad, muscled back and rounded ass that attracted more girls than I could count. I reached out and let my fingers touch his nakedness. Nick shifted slightly with a soft groan.

Reaching across his side I found his half-aroused cock and ran a finger down the length, making it grow harder. He moaned again. I rubbed along his groin and up his belly, pausing to touch his hardened nipples. Dark eyelashes fluttered before he opened his eyes.

"Wha--?"

"G'morning."

"Nugh," he breathed as my hand went back to stroking his now fully-erect penis while I nibbled at the base of his neck.

No matter how I try to describe that moment it's going to sound clichéd, but clichés are based in fact. So take it for what it's worth, but we moved in perfect unison, like dancers. As corny as it sounds, there were times that morning when I wasn't sure where my body stopped and where Nick's began. The pleasure we shared seemed to transcend the two of us as individuals. That old line about the earth standing still became perfectly real to me that day.

When Nick asked me to enter him, his voice deep and rough with pleasure and need, I was jolted back to the real world. I was scared. I knew one mistake on my part would snap him back to the rape, but another part of me knew that that wouldn't happen -- it couldn't. We were too aware of who we were, where we were and what we were feeling for one another to make that kind of a mistake.

I'll never forget the sheer pleasure of burying myself inside Nick. The sounds of his encouragement meant more to me than anything. We climaxed together, just like he and I had the night before.

No matter what the world threw at us in the future we knew we'd be stronger now. We were in love. We were friends, partners, brothers, lovers. Who's to say if it's right or wrong?

And I knew then, just like I know now, it wouldn't matter to us if they did. And you know? I was right.

The End


End file.
